


All of You

by BloodEnvy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Graveyard Sex, Smut, Sunnydale (BtVS), This is just smut, gone, like a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: Set Post-"Gone"Buffy’s visible again, and still stressing about everything that’s going wrong in her life. So what happens when she comes across a certain blonde pain-in-the-ass? Smut of course!





	All of You

Buffy kicked at a stone, sending it ricocheting off of a nearby tombstone. She’d received a call from Social Services saying that she could expect another ‘visit’ from one of their social workers the next morning for another evaluation... or interrogation. The house was still in disarray thanks to the ‘All Magic Must Go’ clearance they were doing for Willow, not to mention the research and reference books Buffy had found littering the dining room table thanks to that same redheaded Wiccan. Dawn hadn’t come out of her room since Buffy had freaked her out over the whole invisible thing, and Buffy knew she would be less than happy to see her when she got home.  
  
Raking fingers through her newly cropped hair, she gave a heavy sigh. It was the only thing that was different. She might have gotten herself a second chance with Social Services after what she’d done to Doris Keller’s files, but she wasn’t any better for it. She’d have to stave off the next Social Worker’s concerns about Dawn’s welfare, and she wasn’t even sure she could do that. Willow was still struggling to quit magic, and with Anya and Xander’s wedding, and Dawn’s grades, and the ever growing pile of bills...  
  
Buffy screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t know if she could handle it.  
  
What she did need, however, was something to punch. She’d dropped by the house long enough to change and headed out again, stake in hand. Willow had promised to coerce Dawn into eating dinner, and she’d offered to leave some for Buffy in the microwave. She wasn’t Mom, but sometimes, it was just as nice to have Willow around. She knew how to take care of them when Buffy dropped the ball.  
  
Like now.  
  
And she couldn’t even find a stinking vampire.  
  
“C’mon out, undead nasties.” Buffy sighed, tapping her stake against her thigh as she walked. She’d already done an early sweep of the main part of town, and with business at the Bronze taking a small dive after Willow’s magical bender with Amy— slayage in that part of town was at minimum. “I won’t hurt you... promise.”  
  
“'You talking to yourself now, Slayer?”  
  
Buffy jumped, spinning around at the new voice, stake half-raised. She kicked herself almost immediately when she realised it was Spike, breathing deeply and trying to get her heart rate to slow. How was it that she’d gotten so used to having Spike around that he didn’t even set off her vamp-radar-back-of-the-neck-tinglies anymore? “Have you got me lo-jacked or something?”  
  
The vampire smirked, holding up the brown paper bag in arms. “Happy accident.”  
  
Buffy only cocked an eyebrow at him. “Doesn’t the bag imply you paid for stuff? Or do you take one with you so you don’t look suspicious coming out of the store?”  
  
Spike adopted an expression of mock-offence. His voice took on a deeper lilt, adopting a Giles-like tone. “I’ll have you know that I pay for all my groceries.” Buffy scoffed, and he shrugged, his voice returning to normal. “Well, most of them.”  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. “So you’ve done your nightly klepto-schtick, liberating smallgoods from hardworking shopkeepers. What do you want?”  
  
He held up a hand. “Hey, you’re just on my way home.” He pointed behind her. “Cut through the back and you shorten the trip by about twenty minutes.”  
  
“Gee, maybe you should have moved into a crypt closer to the convenience stores.”  
  
“Don’t exactly cater to the dead, pet.” Spike smirked. “It’s downright racist.”  
  
Buffy’s eyes rolled again as she turned away, continuing her patrol. “I’ll be sure to log a complaint.”  
  
Spike’s head tilted to the side as he followed her slowly. “What’s up with you, Slayer? Not happy with the see-all state of being?”  
  
Buffy fought to keep the glare off her face, but she ignored him. He caught up to her quickly, grabbing her arm. “Hey.”  
  
She turned to face him. “What do you want, Spike?” He couldn’t help the suggestive grin that spread over his face. He flicked his eyebrows up, and Buffy scoffed, shaking off his hand. She ignored the twist her stomach made at that promising look in his eyes, the smell of his last cigarette lingering and teasing her senses.  
  
“No excuse not to,” Spike pointed out, his voice lowering to a deep, husky resonance. He stepped in towards her, dropping the bag on the ground, and Buffy felt her backside meet the cool stone of a tombstone as she moved away. He closed the distance between them, his head cocking to the side again as his fingertips trailed lightly up her arm. “No reason you can’t stay...”  
  
“You kicked me out, remember?” Buffy reminded him with a scowl, jerking her arm away from him.  
  
Spike glanced up at her, his hand returning to its slow journey up her arm. His eyes watched it as he spoke again. “I told you... wanted all of you... couldn’t have you turning into puddin’, could I?”  
  
“Pudding?” Buffy’s voice came out quieter than she intended, his fingers sliding up over her shoulder to trace her collarbone.  
  
“Ran into Anya... Can’t say the happy couple has the exposition down the way the Watcher does.” His tone was almost idle, the smallest of smiles curving on his lips as he watched her chest rise and fall with increasingly shallow breaths. “But that’s not really the most important thing at the moment, is it?”  
  
Buffy’s teeth dug into her lip and her eyes closed as she felt Spike slide her jacket down her arms, heard the dull sound of it hitting the grass. His hands returned to her arms, sending shivers up her spine as his mouth found her neck. She wanted to push him away, still angry, but her body disagreed, and she bared her neck to him.  
  
“So hot... sweet...” Spike was murmuring against her skin, one hand moving up to tangle in her hair. His lips grazed the flesh behind her ear, his tongue teasing her jaw line.  
  
“Like honey...” She shivered again as she felt his lips form the words against the curve of her neck.  
  
“Whipped cream...” The hand on her arm moved down to play with the hem of her shirt, her own hands coming up to touch his waist under the leather of his coat.  
  
“Warm caramel...” Buffy raised her arms as Spike pulled her shirt over her head, a dulcet moan escaping her as his tongue trailed down to her cleavage. Dear god, she loved his tongue. He planted an open-mouthed kiss on her sternum, and she tangled fingers in his hair.  
  
“Barbeque sauce...”  
  
“Am I a sundae or a chicken strip?” Buffy asked with an amused smile, and Spike’s fingers found the strap of her bra, pushing it down her shoulder.  
  
“Mmm... strip...” Spike mumbled into her skin, before he lips traced the upper curve of her bra cup and his hands undid her jeans. His fingertips grazed the thin cotton of her underwear, and she jerked under his hand. She could feel him smirk, and she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck.  
  
He pushed at the jeans and she shimmied them down her hips, her breathe catching slightly as his hand found her hip. He lifted her out of them and she kicked them off her feet as he sat her on the tombstone. She gasped at the sudden cold of the granite against the bare skin of her thighs. She wordlessly spread her legs and he stepped between them.  
  
His hands gripped her thighs tightly, and he lifted her legs, guiding them to wrap around his hips. She gripped his biceps, rocking back slightly as the hard lines of his body moved in to brush against the curves of her own. She felt his lips ghost over hers as he tangled fingers in her hair once more and he moved to give his attention to the other side of her neck.  
  
“So... all that was missing was the see-me factor?” Buffy asked huskily.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
Buffy smiled slightly. She kind of liked it when Spike was like this; it was like she was making him delirious. It gave a sense of wanton pride and she tightened her grip on him. She realised she was supposed to be talking, and struggled to concentrate with his tongue lathing the skin behind her ear. “That’s why... you kicked me out... ‘If I can’t have all of you’ etcetera...”  
  
Spike met her eyes, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. She was flushed and her breathing was heavy, her hair mussed and her skin was warm under his hands. He’d never have all of her. “This is close enough.”  
  
And he smashed his lips to hers.  
  
Everything sped up; their breathing harsher and their movements becoming more desperate. Buffy flung an arm around his neck and pulled him closer, almost losing her balance on the tombstone. Spike gripped the granite hard in one hand, the other tugging at her hair to draw her closer against him. He’d felt the difference in the crypt, but seeing it was different.  
  
“You do this because I like it long?” He pulled away long enough to toy with a lock, curling it around his finger as he considered the new length.  
  
“Mmph...” Buffy groaned headily, and Spike’s eyes rolled back as her teeth grazed his adam’s apple. She licked it, and she giggled as he growled. He ran his fingers down her stomach, circling her navel once before trailing down to dip under the waistband of her panties. A shiver ran though her body, and Spike looked up at her and smirked devilishly.  
  
“Cold, pet?” He taunted.  
  
Buffy glared at him, nodding determinedly. Sure, she was about to screw him on top of a tombstone, but she wasn’t about to admit the effect he was having on her. Chuckling, he shrugged off his duster and wrapped it around her shoulders.  
  
Surprised, Buffy froze for a moment before pulling her arms through the sleeves, shaking them back to free her hands. The worn leather was surprisingly warm, and she cupped his face in her hands, kissing him again.  
  
Spike’s tongue pushed into her mouth at the same time he tore at her panties, ripping either side and leaving the front of it hanging down the top of the tombstone. Buffy pulled away indignantly. “Do you know how many pairs you have ruined? You’re lucky these weren’t expens—“  
  
Spike kissed her again. “I told you to stop wearing them.”  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, gasping loudly as he ran a finger over her labia and dipped between to press against her clit. Spike chuckled again, pressing a kiss to her throat before running his eyes over her body. “You know... this just might be the sexiest bloody thing I’ve ever seen.” He toyed with the strap of her bra. “Having you all but naked and all wrapped up in my coat.” He tugged a bra cup down and lowered his mouth to her nipple. “You’re bloody incredible.”  
  
Buffy’s head lolled back as he grinded his teeth lightly against her nipple, already hard in the night air. She curled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, her other hand sneaking under the collar of his shirt. He’d forgone the t-shirt for a button down, and she traced his collarbone with her fingertips. Her touch became harsher as his fingers returned to her sex, scratching at his pale skin.  
  
Spike growled as she gripped his shirt and pulled, the buttons popping off to let it hang open. She scraped her fingernails over his chest, teasing his nipples before running over his abdomen, leaving red scratch marks on his skin. He locked his jaw with a groan, and she smiled, unbuckling his belt.  
  
Circling his thumb over Buffy’s clit, Spike hissed as Buffy released his cock and wrapped her fingers eagerly around it. He pushed a finger inside her tight channel at the same time she stroked the length of him. She bit her lip and smiled as he moaned, his head falling against her shoulder as she caressed the underside of his shaft before flicking her thumb over the head. His free hand fondled her breast, pinching her nipple and sending goose bumps over her flesh.  
  
He added a second finger and pumped them in and out slowly, his lips and teeth lightly grazing her neck, cheek resting against the leather of his duster. He could feel that same leather brushing against his erection along with every move of her hand. Her hands were engulfed in the sleeves, and he relished the feel of her hot flesh wrapped in the familiar sensation of his coat.  
  
Buffy pulled his face up to hers to kiss him again, biting at his bottom lip and teasing it with her tongue. She wrapped her arm around his neck, lifting herself slightly off the tombstone to push herself into the kiss. He pinched her clit, her consequent moan muffled by his mouth. Buffy squeezed the base of his cock, fingertips brushing against his balls. Spike broke the kiss, lifting his fingers to her lips, smearing her own come over her lips. Buffy licked his fingertips, tasting herself, before he sucked them into his mouth, curling his tongue around them.  
  
“Didn’t I tell you, you were sweet?” Spike asked her, and she gave him a tiny, wanton smile, licking her upper lip.  
  
He kissed her again, groaning against her mouth at the flavour. He cupped his hand over the one she had on his cock, following and encouraging her movements for a few moments before moving it away. His hands squeezed her waist and he lifted her, angling her body and impaling her on his cock.  
  
Buffy cried out; even after all the sex they’d had, it was still jarring to take all of him at once. She clutched at his shoulders, fisting the silky material of his shirt in her hands.  
  
“Buffy...” Spike grunted as he withdrew and slammed back into her again, making her yelp. He smirked— God, he loved that sound. “My sweet little Slayer...” His breath played against her cheek, his teeth moving to graze her earlobe. He wrapped his arms around her waist, under the duster, drawing her flush against his body as he continued to thrust, his pace quick and demanding.  
  
She was barely touching the tombstone now, her legs wrapped tightly around his slender hips. His jeans and belt chafed at her thighs, and with every thrust she pushed them slightly further down his thighs, her ankles hooking together against his ass. The rubber of her shoes’ soles rubbed against his skin, and he curled his tongue behind his teeth. Every thrust made her backside hit the cold granite.  
  
His lips grazed over hers in light, heady kisses, their breath mingling in the almost nonexistent space between them. “My tasty little treat...”  
  
Buffy moaned, low in her throat, biting at his lips playfully. She eagerly pushed at his shirt, letting it hang from his arms as her fingernails scored his shoulder blades. She bit his collarbone, hard, marring the pale skin with deep indents. Spike’s eyes rolled back in his head, his jaw tightening almost painfully.  
  
“You’re playing with fire, love.” He warned her in a halting voice, reaching down to pinch her clit.  
  
“That’s kind of— uh— the point.” She giggled, rotating her hips slowly.  
  
He growled, the rumble vibrating in his chest. “Are you testing me, girl?”  
  
Buffy shivered slightly at the challenging, almost authoritative tone in his voice, tossing her head back to shake her hair out of her eyes. She leaned in, taking his head in her hands and running her tongue over the skin behind his ear. “Bring it on, Big Bad.”  
  
Spike grinned lasciviously, his arms tightening around her waist in a vice-grip, pistoning in and out her faster and harder than before. Buffy braced her hands on the tombstone, leaning as far back as possible, and lifting her hips up to meet his thrusts. Her arms quivered as he moved his hands to grip her ass, holding her to him as they slammed into each other.  
  
Buffy stared up at the night sky, watching her breath turn to mist in the air, the duster hanging off her shoulders. To trail on the ground. His pelvic bone struck her clit with every thrust, and she grunted every time it did. Spike squeezed her ass almost painfully, swivelling his hips as he entered her again.  
  
Spike watched Buffy with half-lidded eyes, tongue curling behind his teeth as he watched her breasts bounce, her whole body shake with excitement and the cold. Her stomach was stretched taut, curved upwards before sloping down to where their groins met.  
  
He felt her clench around him as he ran a hand slowly along her stomach, his fingertips barely brushing the underside of her bra before moving down to her sex. Buffy moaned as he touched his thumb to her clit, her thighs tightening their grip on his hips.  
  
“Fuck... Spike—“ Buffy bit her lip. “I—“  
  
“Let it go, love.” Spike urged her huskily, pinching her clit. He watched her arms shake with the effort to keep herself up. “Let me have all of you...”  
  
Buffy barely registered the almost resigned edge to his tone before she felt her body seize up, her back arching as her orgasm hit her. Spike jerked as she tightened around his cock, her body spasming against him and she let out a drawn out “Oh, God!” as she came, her arms wobbling as they began to collapse underneath her.  
  
Spike lurched forward, catching before her back hit the stone and pulling her against him, bouncing her on his cock as he leaned back slightly.  
  
Buffy shook with the last of her orgasm, feeling his coat slap lightly against her back as it followed her to meet his body, and she gripped his shoulders, kissed him and moved to wrap her arms around his neck, supporting her still trembling body. Her breasts were flush against his chest and she sighed with pleasure as he helped her rise and fall on his cock.  
  
“Perfect, you are...” Spike brushed hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear as he whispered to her. “Sodding perfection...”  
  
Buffy kissed his throat, rotating her hips and picking up speed as she felt herself loosen up. Spike closed his eyes and groaned, squeezing her ass rhythmically.  
  
“You’re gonna be the bloody death of me.”  
  
“That... that’d be the, ohh, slayer-friendly out—ah! – outcome, huh?” Buffy teased, licking the marks left from when she’d bitten him. She hadn’t broken the skin, but the bite mark looked angry against his pale skin. She tangled her fingers in his hair, playing with the curls as she rode him more purposefully.  
  
Spike felt her nearing climax again, and he bent his knees slightly, angling his hips to slide his cock against more sensitive spots inside her, her clit brushing against his pelvic bone. Buffy rested her forehead against his as she came for a second time, teeth clenched and a desperate moan ripping from her.  
  
Her hips picked up speed, and she thrust hard enough to send Spike off balance, sending him falling to the ground to land on his back, his cock still buried in the Slayer as she came down with him. She didn’t hesitate, riding him furiously, her hands clawing at his chest and her fingernails raking over his abs. She guided his hands to her breasts, and she found her clit, her fingers working against it frantically. Spike watched her in awe— all wrapped up in his leather duster; otherwise naked except for the bra that was bunched unceremoniously beneath her breasts, her hair bouncing along with her movements.  
  
I guess it still bounces when she—  
  
Buffy let out a strangled cry that sounded a lot like his name as her third orgasm hit her, and Spike lurched upward as he followed her, his hands flying to her hips and gripping them tightly. His thrusts became more erratic as he came, a hoarse shout of ecstasy escaping him as his torso curved forward and his head came to rest on her stomach, his hands still holding her hips.  
  
They froze like that for a minute before Spike fell back, panting. Buffy smiled down at him affectionately, lifting herself shakily to let his cock leave her before leaning forward to rest on his chest. It rose and fell with unnecessary breath, and she traced idle patterns on one of his pecs.  
  
“Forgive me for kicking you out now?” Spike asked her huskily, a small smirk on his face.  
  
Buffy glanced up at him, shaking her head, “Nuh-uh. You owe me big time to make up for it.”  
  
Spike grinned at her. He pushed her backwards until her back met the tombstone, bending her knees and spreading them wide. The duster barely covered her heaving chest, and he crawled between her legs, his mouth meeting hers passionately.  
  
“Better start making good on my debt, then.”


End file.
